


The Other Side of the Mountain

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: Drama, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-12-18
Updated: 1999-12-18
Packaged: 2018-11-10 17:46:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11131743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: Ben struggles with the emotional aftermath of Fortitude Pass.





	The Other Side of the Mountain

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

The Other Side of the Mountain

## The Other Side of the Mountain

by Mary

* * *

NOTES: It's interesting that we're not given any information on dueSouth about how 

arresting Victoria affected Fraser's life at that time. We know that ten years later 

he still thinks of her and still carries the guilt of his betrayal. How did he ever 

manage to put that aside and get on with his life as if nothing had happened? Or 

did he? 

DISCLAIMER: Alliance and dueSouth own these characters. I am indebted to Paul Haggis 

for speaking to my soul so eloquently and passionately. 

Drama; Rated PG-13; Spoilers for "Victoria's Secret" and "Dead Men Don't Throw Rice" (minor) 

**THE OTHER SIDE OF THE MOUNTAIN**

A Play in One Act 

**CHARACTERS**

Ben Fraser, 23 years old, RCMP Constable 

Bob Fraser, his father, 47 years old, RCMP Sergeant 

Chief Superintendent, RCMP, Yellowknife 

Inspector, RCMP, Moose Jaw 

**TIME/PLACE**

Summer, 1984. Canada. 

Scene 1 

Bob Fraser's cabin in the Yukon. 

Ben is lying on the bed, reading a book by the light of a kerosene lamp. A noise is heard coming from outside the cabin and Ben looks out the window and then mutters an annoyed "Darn!" He lies back down, hugs a pillow to his chest, and closes his eyes. 

Bob Fraser enters the cabin and noisily drops his backpack to the floor. He sees Ben lying on the bed and notices the book in Ben's hand. He goes over to Ben, takes the book and looks at it, mutters a "humph!" and places the book on the bedside table. 

BOB: Brrr! It's cold in here. 

He waits for a response from Ben. When he doesn't get one, he goes to the fireplace and begins to start a fire, occasionally glancing at Ben as he does so. 

BOB: Sun's almost down. Night chill is settlin' in. 

Ben doesn't respond; pretends to be asleep. 

BOB: Wouldn't say no to a bowl of hot soup. 

Bob gets the fire going, then stands and looks at Ben, hands on his hips, frustrated. He then goes to the kitchen area and rummages for something to eat, slamming cupboards and drawers and banging pots and pans as loudly as he can, watching Ben for any signs of life. He opens two cans of soup and dumps them into a saucepan which he places over the burner of a propane stove. 

BOB: Hungry, Son? 

Ben doesn't answer. 

BOB: Soup'll be hot in a few minutes. 

Bob decides to take the bull by the horns and goes over to the bed where Ben lies. 

BOB: Got any bannock? 

Ben doesn't answer. Bob nudges the bed forcefully with his leg, banging it against the wood frame, then winces in pain. 

BOB: Damn! That'll be a nice bruise! 

BEN: (with closed eyes) That'll teach ya to go around kicking things. 

BOB: Oh, you're awake. 

BEN: Not by choice. 

BOB: Sorry. Thought you might be hungry. I put some soup on. Should be ready any minute. 

BEN: I'm not. 

BOB: Not hungry? 

BEN: No. 

BOB: Oh. Got any bannock? 

BEN: No. 

BOB: Pity. Nothin' like a good bannock with some hot soup. That's one thing I'll say for your 

grandmother. Always had a supply of bannock in the house. 

BEN: (Impatiently) Dad, what're you doing? 

BOB: Just fixin' some supper. Buck dropped me off on the highway. The long walk gave me 

quite an appetite. 

BEN: No. Why are you here? 

BOB: Oh, that. Lookin' for you, Son. 

BEN: Yeah, well, I don't need to be found. Thanks, anyway. 

BOB: Your sergeant disagrees. He called me. Says he sent you off for a week's leave almost 

a month ago. 

BEN: So? 

BOB: So add it up, Son. Technically, you're AWOL. 

BEN: Yes, I suppose I am. Technically. 

Ben opens his eyes and looks across the room. 

BEN: Your soup's boiling over. 

Ben closes his eyes again. 

BOB: What? Oh. Thanks, Son. 

Bob goes to rescue the soup. 

BOB: You heard that? 

BEN: Uh huh. 

BOB: Ha, that's my boy! (Tastes the soup by dipping his finger) Mmm, that's the ticket. Sure 

you don't want some, Ben? 

BEN: Yes. 

BOB: Well, okay, maybe later. I'll leave you a little for later. 

BEN: Just eat the damn soup, Dad! I don't want any. 

BOB: Fine, fine. You don't have to bite my head off. 

Ben sighs, opens his eyes, and sits up on the bed, leaning against the wall. He watches Bob take a seat at the table and begin to eat. 

BEN: I'm sorry. Okay? 

Bob mumbles a reluctant acceptance of the apology, milking Ben's guilt. 

BEN: It's just that I really don't want...don't take this personally, but I don't feel like talking. I 

came here because I want to be alone. I need to be alone. 

BOB: Ah, I see. Understood. Well, I won't say another word, Son. Just pretend I'm not here. 

BEN: Dad... 

BOB: No, it's all right. I'll just sit here quietly and eat my soup and... 

BEN: Dad... 

BOB: ...you just go on being alone... 

BEN: Dad... 

BOB: ...This cabin's certainly big enough for the two of us. 

BEN: It's one room, Dad! 

BOB: Well, yes... 

BEN: So, I can't be alone with you here, can I? 

BOB: You want me to leave? 

BEN: Now you're catching on. 

BOB: Right now? 

BEN: Finish your soup. 

BOB: Right. Guess I'll just bunk down in the shed tonight, if that's all right. 

BEN: (With a sigh) Okay, Dad, you can stay the night. You don't have to sleep in the shed. 

But tomorrow you gotta go. 

BOB: Hmm. Correct me if I'm mistaken, Son, but isn't this actually my cabin? I mean, I 

certainly don't wish to be nit-picky, but aren't you attempting to throw me out of my own 

home? 

BEN: (Embarrassed) Oh. Yeah. Okay, then I'll go. 

Ben gets up and starts to pack a bag. 

BOB: Where are you gonna go? 

BEN: Doesn't matter. 

BOB: Wait till morning. 

BEN: No. I'd rather go now. 

BOB: You could visit your grandmother. She'd be thrilled to see you. 

BEN: No. 

Bob gets up from the table and stands near Ben as he packs. 

BOB: I don't see you packing your uniform. 

BEN: No. 

BOB: What'll I tell your sergeant? 

BEN: I don't care. Nothing. Whatever you want. 

BOB: He's been covering for you, ya know. 

Ben doesn't respond. 

BOB: He thinks maybe you weren't ready for the fast pace of Moose Jaw. Says you were 'this 

close' to getting yourself brought up on charges of misconduct, before he ordered you on 

R and R to straighten yourself out. Disobeying orders. Neglecting your duties. Mouthing 

off to your superiors. Doesn't sound like the Cadet who graduated first in his class. 

BEN: Graduation was a long time ago. 

BOB: Three years. That's not so long. 

BEN: A thousand lifetimes. 

BOB: What? 

BEN: Never mind. 

BOB: Anyway, when you didn't report back for duty as scheduled, your sergeant feared things 

are worse than he suspected. But he wants to give you one last chance before he makes 

an official report to start disciplinary proceedings. That's why he called me. So I could-- 

BEN: Bring me back alive, eh, Dad? 

BOB: Precisely. 

BEN: Well, here I am...alive. Tell him that if you want. 

BOB: For God's sake, Ben! Can't you see he's trying to help you? 

Ben doesn't answer. Keeps packing. 

BOB: You're gonna be thrown off the force! 

Ben doesn't answer. 

BOB: How long do you plan to go on like this? 

BEN: Like what? 

BOB: You have a job, Son. Responsibilities. Duties. 

BEN: To hell with all that. 

Bob grabs Ben angrily by the shirt and lifts him to stand before him. 

BOB: To hell with duty? You know you don't really believe that. I oughta knock some sense 

into you right now! 

Ben remains calm, makes no move to defend himself. 

BEN: Sorry, Dad. But I can't help it if that's how I feel. 

Bob lets go of Ben and moves away from him. 

BOB: Feelings've got nothing to do with it. You know what's right and what's wrong. 

BEN: I used to. 

BOB: And you know duty comes first, always. 

BEN: Duty to what? To whom? 

BOB: Duty to duty. Couldn't be simpler. 

Ben resumes packing his bag. 

BOB: Don't throw your life away, Son. 

BEN: Funny you should say that, Dad. 

BOB: I'm afraid I don't see the humor. 

BEN: No, I guess not. 

BOB: You're just a kid. You got your whole life ahead of you. 

BEN: Or, I could die tomorrow. Hell, tonight even. 

BOB: Oh, well, that's a cheery thought. 

BEN: No, just a realistic one. None of us knows when it might happen to us. 

BOB: And I don't wanna know, thank you very much. 

BEN: Why not? 

BOB: Huh? 

BEN: If you did know, you know, when you're gonna die, what would you change? What 

would you do different from what you're doing now? 

BOB: What makes you think I'd change anything? 

BEN: Oh, come on, Dad. Think about it. 

BOB: I'd really rather not. 

BEN: Look, you're gonna die tomorrow... 

BOB: Benton! 

BEN: Just humor me for a minute. It's hypothetical, okay? Hypothetically, you're gonna die 

tomorrow. So, you're out hunting down a criminal and you can either spend the rest of 

today the rest of your life hunting down this criminal, or you can, oh, say, spend the 

day out on the lake fishing. Which would you choose? 

BOB: This is ridiculous. You don't get to choose. 

BEN: Sure you do. Which would it be, Dad? 

BOB: Okay, okay, let me see. Well, who exactly is this criminal I'm hunting? 

BEN: Does it matter? Isn't a criminal a criminal in your book? 

BOB: True enough. Still, I should know what kinda deviant I'm hypothetically after. 

BEN: Okay, Dad. He's a thief. He robbed a bank. Drove the getaway car. 

BOB: Armed robbery? 

BEN: Um, yeah, I mean some of the robbers were armed, but not this one. At least, you don't 

think he was. 

BOB: Anyone killed? 

BEN: A guard and one of the thieves. 

BOB: You've really thought this out, haven't you? 

BEN: It's just hypothetical. The details don't matter. 

BOB: Details always matter, Son. 

BEN: Okay, so what would you do? Would you keep hunting the criminal and arrest him if that 

was gonna be the last thing you did in your life? 

BOB: Hmm... That, or go fishing, you said? 

BEN: Yeah. Fishing or whatever. Something besides your duty. Something you want to do. 

BOB: Fishing alone or with someone? 

BEN: Whichever. 

BOB: Fishing with you? 

BEN: Sure... 

Bob walks about, pondering Ben's hypothetical question. Ben watches him anxiously. 

BOB: No chance I might live another day? 

BEN: No, Dad. 

BOB: So, if I don't catch the criminal, what happens? Will someone else catch him? 

BEN: I don't know. You don't know that. 

BOB: He might get away? Possibly rob another bank? Or worse? Maybe kill someone? 

BEN: Possibly. 

Bob ponders some more, then turns to Ben. 

BOB: (Forced) I'd go fishing with you, I suppose. 

BEN: Really? 

BOB: Isn't that what you wanted me to say? 

Ben smiles in frustration and sits on the bed, hangs his head. 

BOB: Isn't this all some elaborate scheme you cooked up to get me to go fishing with you? 

Ben shakes his head; doesn't look up. 

BOB: Then I'm afraid you've lost me. 

BEN: Forget it, Dad. It was just...I was just curious. It's not important. 

BOB: Seems to me it's pretty important to you. 

BEN: I told you, it was just hypothetical. 

BOB: Ah, well, there's the problem, you see. I've never been any good at those hypotheticals. 

Give me an honest, real life situation any day. Real life I can handle. 

BEN: Hmm, real life. 

Ben gets up and slings his back pack over his shoulders. 

BOB: Take a jacket. It gets cold. 

Ben takes his coat from a hook on the wall and leaves the cabin. Bob stares at the closed door. 

BOB: You can't run from it, Son. 

Scene 2 

Bob is on the bed reading the same book Ben had been reading in Scene 1\. He hears sounds coming from outside, peeks out the window, then hurriedly lies down and closes his eyes. 

Ben enters and quietly drops his back pack and hangs up his coat. He then retrieves his bedroll from his pack, takes the kerosene lamp and the book from beside the bed where Bob lies, and makes his bed on the floor, a good distance from his father. He opens the book to a page he had marked for easy reference, then begins to read silently. 

BOB: (Recites) 'I caught this morning morning's minion, kingdom of daylight's dauphin, dapple- 

dawn-drawn Falcon, in his riding...' 

BEN: Dad! 

BOB: Sorry. Still being alone, Son? 

BEN: Yes. 

BOB: Oh. I figured since you came back... 

BEN: I forgot my book. 

Bob is quiet and Ben resumes reading. Realizing, Ben lowers the book and glances in his father's direction. 

BEN: How did you know that's what I was reading? 

BOB: You had the page marked. Looks to me like you spend a good deal of time on that page. 

BEN: So? Can't a person have a favorite poem? 

BOB: It's just an observation, Son. No need to get defensive. Fine choice. 

BEN: You know it? 

BOB: Used to, sure. Can't say I've pondered it much lately. 

BEN: But you were just reciting it. 

BOB: Yes. It's amazing the things you remember. 

BEN: I've read this poem, I don't know, hundreds of times -- maybe more -- in the last couple 

weeks, but I can't seem to memorize even one line. 

BOB: Hmm, probably trying too hard. It's in there, Son, in your memory. You just gotta trust 

it. 

BEN: I don't think so. 

After a brief silence, Bob begins to softly recite the entire poem. Ben becomes transfixed, stares at the ceiling. After Bob finishes his recitation, Ben goes to the door and opens it wide, then just stands in the doorway with his eyes closed. 

BOB: Son? 

No response from Ben. 

BOB: Son? 

Again no response. 

BOB: Benton, shut the door. The air's cold. 

Ben continues to stand in the open doorway. Bob gets up and goes over to close the door. He has to physically move Ben in order to shut the door. 

BOB: You're ice-cold! 

BEN: I'm on fire. 

BOB: Oh, hell. 

Bob leads Ben over to the bed and forces him to sit and Ben becomes more alert. 

BOB: Get under the covers. 

BEN: No, Dad, you were sleeping here. I'm fine on the floor. 

Ben starts to get up, but Bob pushes him back onto the bed. 

BEN: Dad! 

BOB: Do as your father tells ya, Son. 

Ben reluctantly lies back and Bob makes his way toward the kitchen area. 

BOB: I'll fix you some hot tea. 

BEN: I don't want any tea. I'm fine. 

BOB: It'll warm you up. 

BEN: I don't need to be warmed up. 

BOB: And get under those blankets like I told you. You're frozen solid. 

BEN: I am not. 

BOB: Don't contradict me, Ben. 

Ben sighs, gets out of bed, and goes over to his father. 

BOB: Son, don't force me to force you into bed. 

BEN: (Taking Bob's hands in his own) Look, Dad. Feel. Nice and warm. 

Bob is amazed at the touch of Ben's hands. He pulls him close to check the rest of him. 

BOB: Hah. Well, isn't that the darndest thing! I'd swear you were an icicle a minute ago. 

BEN: Yeah, well, even if I was, Dad, I can take care of myself, you know. 

BOB: You'll have to forgive me for saying so, Son, but, by all accounts, you haven't been doing 

such a great job lately. 

BEN: Since when do you care? 

BOB: What the hell is that supposed to mean? I don't care about my own son? That's cruel, 

Son. That's cruel and uncalled for. 

BEN: Oh, God! 

BOB: I care more than you could ever know. 

BEN: Well, maybe that's the problem, Dad. If you expect a person to know something, you 

gotta tell 'im. I'm not a damned mind reader! 

BOB: Watch your mouth! I'm still your father. You owe me some respect. 

BEN: I owe you? Oh, that's rich. 

BOB: Benton... 

BEN: Dad, this is my life to live. Not yours - or anybody else's. If I wanna swear at my father, 

I'll swear at my father. I'm gonna do what I wanna do, for a change. 

BOB: Even if that means throwing away everything you've worked for your whole life? 

BEN: Especially if it means that, because as far as I'm concerned, all that work was for nothing. 

BOB: Benton, you don't mean that? 

BEN: Yes, I do, Dad. 

BOB: You can't... 

BEN: I'm going to bed. 

Ben settles onto his bedroll on the floor. 

BOB: This'll pass, you know. Whatever it is. 

BEN: Quiet, Dad. I don't wanna talk. 

BOB: Sometimes you just have to buck up and do what you know you have to do. 

BEN: Shut up, Dad! 

BOB: Yeah, okay, okay. (Lightly kicks Ben in the head) But snap out of this quick, eh? I don't 

care how old you are, it's not right you telling your dad to shut up. 

BEN: (Repeating the word) Right. 

BOB: Glad you agree. 

BEN: 'Night, Dad. 

BOB: Good night, Son. 

Scene 3 

Mid-morning the next day. Ben is lying in bed on his back with his hands behind his head, staring at the opposite wall. Bob enters, carrying a fishing pole and a pail. Ben doesn't acknowledge him, so Bob tries to ignore him as well and goes about cleaning the fish he caught. Bob hums a tune as he works. Upon hearing him, Ben glances at him for a few seconds, then looks back to the wall. 

BOB: You shoulda come fishing, Son. They were biting like rabid wolves. 

No response. 

BOB: Ah, still sulking are we? 

BEN: Just 'cause I don't feel like talking doesn't mean I'm sulking. 

BOB: And it's damn impolite to ignore someone when they're speaking to you. Your 

grandmother would be turning over in her grave. 

BEN: Grandma's not dead. She doesn't have a grave. 

BOB: No, but if she were, she'd be turning over in it. 

BEN: That's the stupidest thing I ever heard. 

BOB: Made perfect sense when I said it. 

BEN: Forget it. Anyway, I'm just doing what you told me to do. Pretending you're not here. 

BOB: Ah, yes, I did tell you to do that, didn't I? Well, you will let me know, give me some sort 

of sign, when you're ready to stop pretending I'm not here, won't you? 

BEN: If you're still here. But I was kinda hoping you wouldn't be. 

BOB: Oooh, that hurts, Son. That hurts. 

BEN: You know what they say, Dad. 'If you can't stand the heat...' 

BOB: '...get out of the kitchen.' Yes, I appreciate the advice, Ben. 

Ben gets up from the bed and exits the cabin. Bob looks up when he hears the door and discovers that Ben has left. 

BOB: Humph. Now where's he gone? 

Bob is obviously frustrated as he continues cleaning and preparing the fish. 

BOB: Caroline, are you watching this? It would appear our son has something awfully heavy 

weighing on his mind. And, well, he won't admit it, of course, but I suspect it's a woman. 

I suppose it had to happen sooner or later, but the thing is...well, suffice to say he 

apparently let himself get a little too involved with a prisoner. A prisoner, Caroline! Can 

you believe it? I always thought Ben had more sense than that. I hoped so, anyway. I 

know, Caroline, I have to be patient with him. I'm trying. But, I tell ya, when he starts 

that talk about duty not being worth crap, I could just haul off and ... 

Ben re-enters the cabin. 

BOB: You're back. 

Ben picks up the book of poetry and sits down to read. 

BOB: I guess you must be sneaking some food and drink when I'm not looking. 

BEN: What? 

BOB: Apparently you still have a need to, um, answer the call of nature, so you must be eating 

something. 

BEN: That's fascinating, Dad. Can we have some quiet time now? 

BOB: As opposed to the stimulating conversations we've been having since I got here, you 

mean? 

BEN: Yes. 

BOB: Oh, Caroline! Just one quick blow across that cocky mouth! You know darn well he'd 

never get away with this with his grandmother. (To Ben) You know darn well you'd 

never get away with this with your grandmother. 

BEN: I don't have to get away with anything. (Slams the book shut) Look, Dad. I'm a grown 

man and I can make my own decisions. And if I decide I don't wanna spend the rest of 

my life being a damn Mountie, then I don't have to. 

BOB: What're you gonna do, then? Sit on your butt and read poetry? 

BEN: Maybe. 

BOB: We could go hunting. 

BEN: Who could? 

BOB: You and me. Our stores are pretty much depleted, seeing as how neither of us have been 

spending much time here lately. 

BEN: I thought you were leaving. 

BOB: Yes, but there's no hurry. 

BEN: Well, that's a switch. 

BOB: Ha, ha, Son. Very funny. 

BEN: All those years when I was growing up, it seemed you couldn't wait to leave whenever 

you came home. Now, when I've done everything but physically throw you out, you've 

got nothing better to do than hang around and annoy me. 

BOB: Should I take that as a 'no', then? 

BEN: No. We can go hunting, if you want. If it'll make you feel better. 

BOB: It always does. Always does. 

Scene 4 

The shores of the Nahanni River. Nightfall. Bob and Ben are seated around a camp fire, drinking tea, their rifles at their sides. 

BOB: Better douse that fire, Son. They'll see us. 

BEN: The caribou? 

BOB: Uh, no, no. The criminals. 

BEN: What criminals? I wasn't aware there were criminals. 

BOB: There's always criminals. 

BEN: (Angry) Dad! What's this about? 

BOB: Well, to be totally truthful, Son, you caught me at rather a bad time. I've been tracking 

these guys for months, all over the country. 

BEN: What guys? 

BOB: Here, let's douse this first. 

Bob begins to douse the fire and Ben reluctantly helps him. They sit in the dark. 

BEN: Okay, Dad. Spill it. 

BOB: As I said, I've been tracking these criminals for months. But then I got that call from 

Sergeant Meers and, well, I couldn't ignore it. Of course, I can't ignore my duty to find 

these deviants, either, just because... 

BEN: Just because what? 

BOB: Well, just because you picked a time like this to get yourself in trouble. 

BEN: Ah. Understood. So, we're not actually out hunting for food then, are we? Well, that 

explains why we had to come all the way out here. 

BOB: Now, Benton, don't get all bent out of shape... 

BEN: No, Dad, it's okay. I understand. I mean it's always been the same with you. Your duty 

to catch the criminals comes first above everything else. I know that. I understand. 

BOB: Do you really? You're not just saying you understand? 

BEN: No, I'm not just saying that. 

BOB: (Relieved) Oh, well, you don't know how glad I am to hear that, Ben. 

BEN: I didn't say I agree with it. 

BOB: (Disappointed) Oh. 

BEN: But I'm tired of trying to compete. 

BOB: Compete? For what? 

BEN: For you. 

BOB: Don't talk such nonsense! I'm your father. You don't have to compete for me. 

BEN: Oh no? Think about it, Dad. Why do you think I've wanted to be a Mountie ever since I 

can remember? Huh? 

BOB: Because there isn't a more honorable profession in the world, of course. 

BEN: No, because you are a Mountie. And I thought if I was a Mountie, too, then maybe that'd 

draw us together, if not physically then perhaps in some sort of spiritual way. 

BOB: Oh, God! You're not gonna get all otherworldly on me, are you? I don't think I could 

take that sitting here in the dark like this. 

BEN: Forget it, Dad. You have no idea what I'm talking about and you never have. I shoulda 

known better than to try to talk to you like this. 

BOB: If you're implying that I'm too stupid to grasp what you're... 

BEN: No, not stupid. Ignorant. 

BOB: I'm ignorant? 

BEN: Yes. Either that or intentionally blind. 

BOB: I see. Whereas you understand everything, I suppose. 

BEN: I understand a lot more than I used to. A lot more than I wish I did. 

BOB: Yes, I can tell. That's why you're chucking all your ideals. And for what? For some 

manipulative devil who somehow convinced you she was a woman worthy of love. 

There is silence for several seconds. 

BOB: I expected better from you, Son. 

BEN: I have no idea what you're talking about. 

BOB: You fell for your prisoner, Benton. 

BEN: No. 

BOB: You didn't? 

BEN: No. 

BOB: The bank robber. The woman you tracked into the mountains during a blizzard. 

Remember? 

BEN: Of course I remember. I almost died. 

BOB: I know all about it. 

BEN: I doubt it. 

BOB: That's what all this is about, isn't it? The woman you...the woman you loved and then 

arrested. The woman who's just been sentenced to ten years in prison. 

BEN: Drop it, Dad. Just drop it. You don't know anything about it. You don't know her and 

you don't know me. 

BOB: I know she played a real number on you and you fell for it. For Chrissakes, Ben, it's the 

oldest trick in the book and you fell for it hook, line, and sinker. 

BEN: That's not how it was. 

BOB: You haven't been the same man ever since. Your colleagues have all noticed. 

BEN: That's true. I'm not the same man. But that's not necessarily a bad thing. 

BOB: It is if you let it destroy you. 

BEN: If I let what destroy me? 

BOB: This...this...this obsession you have, this unhealthy obsession with that woman, that 

criminal who used you in an attempt to escape justice. 

BEN: She didn't use me. 

BOB: She tried. 

BEN: I don't believe that. I'm not stupid, Dad. I've been arresting criminals for three years. I 

think I know when someone is trying to fool me. 

BOB: But this one you loved. You made love to her. 

BEN: I don't remember saying that. 

BOB: People can read between the lines, Ben. 

BEN: Yeah, well, maybe some people need reading glasses. 

BOB: Are you telling me you didn't sleep with her? 

BEN: I'm not telling you anything. 

BOB: In that case, I'll just have to draw my own conclusions. 

BEN: Do what you want. It's not gonna change the truth. 

BOB: Which is? 

BEN: Which is...which is that I belong with Victoria. 

BOB: In prison? You belong in prison? 

BEN: It doesn't matter where. 

BOB: You don't wanna be in prison, Son, believe me. 

BEN: Don't, Dad, okay? 

BOB: Don't what? 

Ben buries his head in his hands and is silent. 

BOB: You have to forget her. 

BEN: No. I can't ever forget her. I may as well forget myself. 

BOB: She's just a woman. You've, er, had women before, and there're bound to be others. 

You're young, you got your father's looks. You'll be fightin' 'em off. Mark my words. 

BEN: Dad? 

BOB: Yeah, Son? 

BEN: Stop talking, please. 

BOB: No need to be embarrassed. I understand. A young man has needs. Hell, so does a not- 

so-young man, such as myself. You know, ever since your mother died, there've been 

times when I... 

BEN: No! Dad, stop right now! I really don't wanna hear about your, um, needs. 

BOB: Ah, as you wish. Anyway, it's your needs we're talking about. 

BEN: No, we're not. 

BOB: We're both grown men, Benton. We can talk about this. 

BEN: There's nothing to talk about. My, uh, my needs are... (pauses to search for the right 

word) 

BOB: Needy? Hungry? Desperate? 

BEN: ...doing just fine, thank you. 

BOB: Good, good. (After a slight pause) Anyone in particular? A nice young lady in Moose 

Jaw, perhaps? 

Ben sighs, gets up and walks away as Bob watches, silently. 

BOB: Didn't I tell ya, Caroline? He needs to find himself a good woman, like his old man did. 

Scene 5 

The same, a few hours later. Ben is asleep and Bob is trying to wake him. Ben awakes with a start, unsure where he is at first, then remembers. 

BEN: What? 

BOB: Get up. We gotta go. 

BEN: Where? 

BOB: They're here. Just up the river. 

BEN: Who? 

BOB: The criminals, Ben! Keep up, will ya! 

BEN: How do you know? 

BOB: Would you just get up! Damn, not even Buck has as many questions as you! 

Bob goes to the river edge and kneels down. Ben gets up from his bedroll and joins his father. 

BEN: Find something? 

BOB: Garbage. 

BEN: Garbage? 

BOB: These guys aren't much for neatness. They toss their garbage into rivers and streams. 

That's how I been tracking 'em. 

BEN: That could be anybody's garbage. 

BOB: No, it's them, all right. I been following 'em long enough to know their garbage when I 

see it. 

BEN: Unbelievable. 

BOB: Comes with experience, Son. You'll see. Some day you'll be tracking outlaws from 

evidence you wouldn't even have noticed years earlier. Let's go, before they catch on to 

us. 

BEN: Um, Dad, I'm, uh, not a Mountie anymore. 

BOB: Nonsense. Nothing's official yet. You help me bring these guys in and you'll be sitting 

pretty. All that, er, unpleasantness will be forgiven. 

BEN: That's not what I -- 

BOB: Come on! Time's wastin'. 

Bob starts to pack up. Ben sighs, then reluctantly follows suit. 

Scene 6 

Further up the Nahanni River, that same night. Ben is chugging tea as fast as he can swallow it. As soon as he finishes one cup, Bob hands him another to drink. 

BEN: That's enough, Dad. I'll bust if I drink any more. 

BOB: Just one more cup. That should do it. 

Ben takes the cup and makes a face as if he'll be sick. 

BOB: Down the hatch. Go on, it won't hurt you. 

BEN: That's easy for you to say. You're not the one who's drunk a canoe dug-out's worth of 

bark tea. 

BOB: You didn't have to do this. I told you I'd do it, but you insisted. 

BEN: Okay, okay. (Chugs the tea, then moans) There, happy now? 

BOB: Hmm. (Holds out another cup) Perhaps you should drink just one more... 

BEN: Get away from me! You're a sadist, you know that? 

BOB: You'll thank me later on. Here, take it. 

BEN: No! If I take one more sip, I'll throw it all up. Then there'll be nothing left to make me 

have to...to wake me up. 

BOB: Ah, good point. I guess you've had enough. 

Ben breathes a painful sigh of relief. 

BEN: This better work. 

BOB: It's worth the risk, believe me. We could just continue up river till we find these guys and 

arrest 'em, but if we did, the rest of the gang would high-tail it to the far ends of the Earth 

and we'd have to start all over again to track 'em down. We know they've been working 

out of this area and we've got a chance to bust the whole operation. We've gotta go for 

it. 

BEN: Suppose they just leave me where they find me? What makes you so sure they'll take me 

with them? 

BOB: I'm not sure. It's a guess, I admit. But I imagine once they discover you're a Mountie, a 

dead Mountie, -- by the way, you've got my badge on you, right? 

BEN: Yes. 

BOB: Good. Once they see that, the temptation to have a real live dead Mountie in their 

possession will be too much for those scoundrels to resist. They'd find some way to profit 

by it. Can't say what'll happen to you once they have you, though. The situation could 

turn very sour while you're still, uh, out. That's why it's important that you're not 'dead' 

for too long. The longer they have you, the more danger you're in. You're gonna need to 

contact me as soon as you can. I'll notify all detachments to stand by to move in once I 

get the location from you. 

BEN: Understood. 

BOB: Sure you don't want me to take this part? 

BEN: Positive. Let me at that toad poison. 

BOB: Did you have to put it like that? 

BEN: That's what it is, Dad. You taught me that yourself when I was just a kid. 

BOB: Yeah, and I also told you if you ever fooled with this stuff again I'd belt you! 

BEN: (Laughs) True. Guess I'd better stay dead this time so I don't get that belting. 

BOB: That's not funny, Son. This is life and death we're talking about, not some game! 

BEN: I know, I know. I guess I just don't have a problem joking about death...anymore. 

BOB: Listen to me, Ben. You need to take this job seriously. I'm gonna be depending on you 

and I have to know your mind is focused on our goal and you're not just playing. 

BEN: Okay, Dad. I'm with you. 

BOB: Are you sure? 

BEN: Yes. No more jokes, I swear. 

BOB: Good man. Shall we proceed, then? We have a few details to work out. Such as where 

to put you. We wanna make sure they see you, or we're sunk from the get-go. 

BEN: Well, if they're following the river, somewhere along the shore should be just as good as 

anywhere. (He surveys the area) How 'bout that rock, there. We can make it look like an 

assailant knocked me against it and the blow to my head killed me. 

BOB: Might work. Might work. 

BEN: Sure it will. (Stands near the rock) Okay, Dad, hit me. 

BOB: What? 

BEN: Give me a good sock with your fist, and I'll fall backward against the rock. 

BOB: We're supposed to be simulating this, Son. I wasn't planning to actually kill you. 

BEN: Yeah, but we gotta make it look believable. 

BOB: If they see you lying there with no signs of life, they'll believe you're dead. They're not 

gonna think about whether the situation looks believable or not. 

BEN: Oh. Yeah, I guess. 

BOB: Your enthusiasm for this caper is admirable, Benton, especially considering you're not a 

Mountie anymore, but you don't have to be quite so eager to play dead. 

BEN: You're right, Dad. Sorry. I was, uh, over-analyzing. 

BOB: Analyzing is good. It's very good. But you gotta remember to use your practical smarts, 

as well. If you place too much weight on extraneous details, there's just gonna be more 

likelihood for something to go wrong. Keep it simple. 

BEN: Yes, Sir. 

BOB: Good man. Let's get to it, eh? 

Scene 7 

Three days later. Chief Superintendent's office at RCMP Northwest Territories Division headquarters, Yellowknife. The Chief is seated behind his desk, and Bob and Ben stand before him. 

CHIEF: I don't have to tell you that this was a big one, gentlemen. This nefarious group has been 

operating one step ahead of us for years. Smuggling, trafficking in stolen national 

treasures, fraudulent financial dealings, even resorting to terrorist tactics on numerous 

occasions. They've been a real Achilles' heel to the entire RCMP, and, needless to say, I 

am more than pleased with your success in bringing them to face justice. A special 

citation will be placed in each of your files. 

BOB: Thank you, Chief. Just doing our duty, of course, which in this case, as always, brings a 

good deal of personal satisfaction. 

CHIEF: And so it should. The resourcefulness of your scheme speaks volumes for your dedication 

and quick thinking in the line of duty. 

BOB: Actually, Sir, that was my son's quick thinking. 

CHIEF: Really? 

BEN: Not all of it, Sir. Just the part about simulating death. I, um, have some experience with 

that, Sir. 

CHIEF: I see. Well, Constable, you should take great pride in this success. You acquitted 

yourself admirably, and I will personally see to your commendation. 

Bob nudges Ben to respond to the Chief. Ben steps forward, at attention, and stares at the wall behind the Chief. 

BEN: Sir, permission to speak freely, please. 

CHIEF: Granted, Constable. 

BEN: I don't think it would be appropriate to award me a citation, Sir. 

CHIEF: Oh? Why is that? 

BEN: Because I have been absent from duty without leave for quite some time, Sir. 

CHIEF: Yes, I am aware of that, Fraser. 

BEN: You are, Sir? 

CHIEF: Unofficially, of course, since you are not assigned to my Division and an official report has 

not been filed. However, I've known your sergeant since he was a student of mine at the 

Academy. Meers is a good friend, and he requested to speak with me about the situation, 

off the record, so I obliged. Therefore, I am not at liberty to take any action against you 

in an official capacity. Or at least I wasn't until you confessed. 

BEN: I'm prepared to submit my resignation, Sir. 

CHIEF: Is that what you want to do? 

BEN: I'm not deserving to wear the uniform anymore, Sir. I abandoned my duty. 

CHIEF: If you have abandoned it for good, which doesn't appear to be the case, then I will accept 

your resignation and forward it to your superiors, if you'd like me to. If not, if this was a, 

er, temporary abdication of duty, then a disciplinary review and a penalty - short of 

termination, perhaps - may be what's called for. 

Bob clears his throat at Ben. 

BEN: Yes, Sir. 

CHIEF: How long you been in the Force now, Constable? 

BEN: Three years, Sir. A little more than three. 

CHIEF: Hmm. Not very long. Yes, it probably seems like an eternity to you. 

BEN: Sometimes, Sir. 

CHIEF: Understandable, but the fact of the matter is you're still wet behind the ears. You're an 

intelligent young man and you display a natural aptitude for this kind of work, but you've 

got a lot to learn yet. Things that only experience can teach you. 

BEN: Yes, Sir. 

CHIEF: Perhaps before you decide to resign, you should talk it over with your father. He's got the 

experience you lack. He may be able to offer some advice or some information to help 

you in your decision. 

BEN: We have discussed it, Sir. That's why I'm here. 

CHIEF: To resign? 

BEN: To turn myself in, Sir. And to turn in my badge if you wish me to, Sir. 

CHIEF: You should be reporting to your supervisor, not to me. 

BEN: I know, Sir. I just thought, since I was here... 

CHIEF: Constable, what is the likelihood that you will desert your post again in the future? 

Ben hangs his head, hesitates before answering. 

BEN: I couldn't say, Sir. 

The Chief stares at Ben for a while as he thinks about this. 

CHIEF: You're dismissed, Constable. 

BEN: From the Force, Sir? 

CHIEF: From my office. Unless you are resolved to relinquish your position with the RCMP here 

and now, then you are hereby ordered to report to your sergeant in, um...(thinks) 

BOB: Moose Jaw, Chief. 

CHIEF: ...Moose Jaw, yes. Thank you, Sergeant. (Remembering) You've only been posted there 

a short time, I believe. 

BEN: Yes, Sir. Less than a month. Not counting these weeks I've been...away. 

CHIEF: Were you unhappy about that posting? 

BEN: I willingly go wherever I'm posted, Sir. 

CHIEF: Hmm. I'm not sure that answers my question, but, nevertheless, we'll let it stand, eh? 

Ben acknowledges him with a slight nod of his head. 

CHIEF: You may go, Constable. Your superiors will decide on an appropriate course of action to 

deal with your, er, truancy. 

BEN: Yes, Sir. Understood. 

CHIEF: And you will receive a commendation for your role in today's arrest. 

BEN: Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir. 

Ben and Bob head toward the door. 

CHIEF: Sergeant, I'd like a moment of your time. 

BOB: Yes, Sir. (To Ben) I'll meet you outside, Son. 

BEN: Yes, Sir. 

Scene 8 

A half hour later, outside the RCMP station. Bob exits the building and finds Ben leaning against it, looking pensive, so he stands next to him. 

BEN: Did the Chief want to talk to you about me? 

BOB: Yes. 

Ben is silent, looks at the ground. 

BOB: Don't you wanna know what we talked about, specifically? 

BEN: I have a pretty good idea. 

BOB: He knows about the bank robber you, er, arrested. 

BEN: Oh. Does he...? 

BOB: Does he what? 

BEN: (Looks at Bob) ...think I slept with her like you do? 

BOB: He is, uh, concerned about that possibility, yes. 

BEN: (Looks down again) Apparently so is everybody else. I imagine I'm gonna be suspended, 

then. If not thrown off the force completely. 

Bob doesn't answer until Ben looks at him. 

BOB: That'll depend on whether they decide to act on this suspicion. 

BEN: They'll have to if they think I did. It's strictly forbidden to, um, fraternize with a prisoner. 

BOB: They'd have to prove it, though. Which would be time-consuming and very embarrassing 

for all involved. 

Ben gives a single nod of his head. 

BOB: You could try telling them you didn't sleep with her. 

BEN: Would they believe me? Do you believe I didn't? 

BOB: I believe whatever you tell me. 

BEN: I haven't told you anything. 

BOB: Then that's what I believe. 

BEN: Nothing? 

BOB: Uh huh. 

BEN: That's typical. You don't care one way or the other. 

BOB: I never said I don't care. For chrissakes, don't put words in my mouth! What I said 

was....look, Ben, how do you expect me to believe you did or you didn't if you won't tell 

me whether you did? 

BEN: If you knew me at all, you wouldn't need me to tell you. 

BOB: Oh, don't start that old song and dance about how I don't know you 'cause I didn't spend 

every waking minute with you when you were growing up. 

BEN: Yeah, you're right, Dad. How dare I expect to have seen my father for more than a few 

weeks out of any year! 

Bob sighs in frustration and paces about nervously. 

BOB: I can't talk to you. You're impossible. 

BEN: Because I'm right. 

BOB: No! You're not. You have no idea why...why things were the way they were. Why I 

wasn't home as much as you would've liked. 

BEN: Yes, I do have an idea. 

Ben and Bob look at each other as Ben waits to see if Bob will ask about his idea. He doesn't. 

BEN: But that's not really important. What is important is that, to a kid, a father who is 

conspicuously absent from his life is a father who doesn't care about his kid. 

BOB: You're not a child anymore, Benton. You should be able to see that's not true -- and 

never has been true. 

BEN: I'm not sure what I see, Dad. I don't know you any better than you know me. 

BOB: Rubbish! I was always there for you when you really needed me. 

BEN: Oh, you mean when I was in trouble of some kind? Like right now, for instance? I'm just 

another one of your 'duties', aren't I? Nothing's changed. 

BOB: Well, that's gratitude for ya! 

BEN: Gratitude? For what? Because you had to be dragged home to give me a kick in the seat 

or to bail me out when I messed up? Do you think that's all I needed from you? Well, 

you needn't have bothered. Mum and Grandma and Grandpa were just as able to give me 

that and, you know, they still found the time and inclination to just be with me. Every 

day. Whether I thought I wanted them to be there or not. 

BOB: From the sound of it, then, you didn't need me. You were well taken care of. I saw to 

that. 

BEN: (Sarcastically) Yes, you sure did. 

BOB: Now what the hell is that supposed to mean? 

BEN: I felt like...like...oh, forget it. 

BOB: Felt like what? 

BEN: Nothing. I didn't feel anything. That's what you want me to say, isn't it? 

Silence for several seconds. 

BOB: Let's go get some dinner. I'm hungry. 

BEN: You go ahead. I don't feel like eating right now. 

BOB: You were dead for thirty-six hours and haven't eaten for two days. Surely, you must be 

starved. 

BEN: I'll live. 

BOB: Fine. Come on, I'll give you a lift back to the room. 

BEN: I'll walk. 

BOB: I'll see you there later? 

BEN: Uh huh. Go on, Dad. You're hungry. 

BOB: Don't be late. We'll have an early morning tomorrow. We can take the truck to Moose 

Jaw. 

BEN: You don't have to. I can manage. 

BOB: I know you can. But it'll be quicker if we take the truck. 

BEN: Fine. We'll take the truck. 

Scene 9 

A few days later; RCMP Detachment, Moose Jaw. The Inspector is seated at his desk when there is a knock at the door. 

INSP: Come. 

Ben enters the office and stands at attention before the Inspector's desk. 

BEN: Sergeant Meers said you sent for me, Sir. 

INSP: Yes. Have a seat, Constable Fraser. 

Ben sits and the Inspector gives his full attention to him. 

INSP: How is everything going with your assignment? 

BEN: Fine, Sir. 

INSP: That's good. But I wouldn't imagine you joined the RCMP to become a file clerk, did 

you? 

BEN: No, Sir. 

INSP: In fact, if you had your druthers, you wouldn't choose a posting to a big town like this one 

to begin with, eh? 

BEN: I am obligated to go wherever the RCMP needs me, Sir. 

INSP: I'm not interested in listening to you tell me what you think I want to hear, Fraser. Speak 

candidly, please, or this meeting will be of no use to either of us. 

BEN: May I ask, is this a disciplinary meeting, Sir? 

INSP: Strictly speaking, no. This is a preliminary discussion to aide me in deciding what, if any, 

action needs to be taken in regards to this report I have received from Sergeant Meers 

regarding your recent behavior. 

Ben nods his understanding. 

INSP: So I'm looking for complete honesty from you here, Constable. 

BEN: Understood, Sir. 

INSP: As to my question...if you could choose your own posting? 

BEN: Well, Sir, I realize that I am currently in no position to make any such requests... 

INSP: Hypothetically, Fraser. If you were in such a position? 

BEN: If I were, Sir, I would probably request a posting to the North. The Northwest, 

particularly. I'm familiar with the way of life up there. 

INSP: You feel at home there? 

BEN: Yes, Sir. It is my home. 

The Inspector scribbles some notes and Ben watches him anxiously. 

BEN: Sir? 

INSP: (still writing) Yes, Constable? 

BEN: Dissatisfaction with my posting here had nothing to do with my going AWOL, Sir. 

The Inspector doesn't answer right away. He finishes his notes, then resumes questioning Ben. 

INSP: Then why don't you tell me what did have something to do with your going AWOL. 

BEN: It's, um, difficult to put into words, Sir. 

INSP: I see. Well, at some point, you're going to have to. Now, you can either explain it to me, 

or you will do so before a disciplinary review board. It's up to you. 

Ben thinks for a moment, then responds. 

BEN: I didn't feel I belonged here any longer, Sir. 

INSP: In Moose Jaw? 

BEN: Anywhere, Sir. 

The Inspector is silent as he looks at Ben, perplexed. 

INSP: When you say 'anywhere', you mean...? 

BEN: Just that, Sir. Anywhere. 

The Inspector sighs and gives Ben a searching stare. 

INSP: I'm having a little trouble understanding that answer. I feel you are not telling me 

everything. 

BEN: (Uncomfortable) I told you it was hard to explain, Sir. 

INSP: Yes. When did this begin, Fraser, this feeling of not belonging? 

Ben looks down; doesn't answer. 

INSP: Did somebody do something to make you feel that way? The other officers, perhaps? 

BEN: No, Sir. 

INSP: I need more cooperation from you, Constable. 

BEN: I'm doing my best, Sir. 

The Inspector glares at Ben impatiently, then begins to look through Ben's file, obviously looking for something in particular. He finds it and begins to read aloud from it. Ben's discomfort as the Inspector reads is very apparent. 

INSP: 'Over the course of several days, I tracked the suspect up to Fortitude Pass through a 

raging blizzard. She was near death when I found her, huddled in a crag. I decided it 

would be more prudent to wait out the storm than to attempt an immediate descent, so I 

staked a lean-to for shelter and employed standard body heat exchange techniques to 

protect us from the cold. Two days later, the storm subsided and we had survived. It 

took us four days to reach the nearest town, at which time I reported to the Outpost with 

the prisoner.' 

The Inspector looks at Ben, who is staring at the floor. 

INSP: Do you recognize that report? 

BEN: Yes, Sir. 

INSP: You tracked and arrested a Victoria Metcalf, the suspected driver of the get-away vehicle 

in a deadly bank robbery in Alaska. 

BEN: Yes, Sir, I did. 

INSP: Until this incident, you had been performing mostly routine municipal tasks in a small 

village, had you not? 

BEN: Yes, that's correct, Sir. 

INSP: There is mention in your record of several occasions when you assisted a more senior 

officer in locating and arresting suspected criminals, but, as far as I can see, this was the 

first time you had the sole responsibility for pursuit and capture. How did that come 

about? 

BEN: I was filling in for an officer in a larger neighboring town, Sir. The call about the bank 

robbery came while I was assigned there, and I was dispatched to pursue and apprehend 

the suspect who was believed to be at large in the area. 

INSP: I see. Rotten luck, eh? 

BEN: Sir? 

INSP: To have to contend with such severe weather -- as well as a dangerous criminal -- on your 

first big assignment. (Smiles) Are you always so fortunate? 

BEN: (Smiles hesitantly) Not always, Sir. 

INSP: Thank God for that. If you were, I'd have to advise you to get out of this line of work 

right away. That would be too much stress for any one person to handle. 

BEN: I don't find the work too stressful, Sir. 

INSP: No? 

BEN: Not more so than I can handle. 

INSP: Hmm, good. 

The Inspector makes some quick notes then browses through Ben's file again. 

INSP: You graduated top of your class. Very impressive. I also see that you had a spotless 

record since becoming an officer until several months ago. Not so much as a sick day or a 

tardiness. (He eyes Ben quickly then returns his attention to the file.) Suddenly you 

began to exhibit behavioral problems. On numerous occasions you were disrespectful of 

your superiors and fellow officers and you became generally lackadaisical in the 

performance of your duties. You were eventually transferred here to Moose Jaw in the 

hope that a change of scenery would spark renewed interest in your job. But the behavior 

and performance problems continued until Sergeant Meers was compelled to order you off 

duty for a week to get your act together. You did not report back to duty as expected 

and, in fact, made no contact whatsoever with the RCMP until you appeared at Northwest 

headquarters in Yellowknife approximately two weeks ago. (He looks at Ben again) 

Sound about right, Constable? 

BEN: Um, yes, Sir. 

INSP: Oh, yes, and one more thing. You have received a citation from the Chief in Yellowknife 

for your role in an important arrest which occurred during the time in which you were 

**AWOL.**

The Inspector folds his hands atop the desk and looks at Ben as if waiting for a response. Ben makes no response. 

INSP: An officer of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police is an officer every hour of every day of 

every week, Fraser. He is not only an officer when it suits him. 

BEN: I know that, Sir. 

INSP: Is there anything you'd like to add? 

BEN: To what, Sir? 

INSP: To anything we've discussed. 

BEN: I don't think so, Sir. 

INSP: Something troubles me about that report I read earlier -- the account of the Metcalf case. 

BEN: Everything in my report was the truth, Sir. 

INSP: That may be, Fraser, but I can't help but feel something is missing. 

BEN: I don't think so, Sir. Nothing pertinent. 

INSP: It must have been a frightening experience, for both you and your prisoner. 

BEN: We did think we might not make it, Sir. 

INSP: Through the storm, you mean? 

BEN: Yes, Sir. 

INSP: You had to rely on one another for warmth, for your very lives. 

BEN: Yes, Sir. 

INSP: You were working together, on the same side, so to speak, until the storm abated. 

BEN: I guess so, Sir. 

INSP: And then, when you survived, you had to turn her in to the authorities. 

BEN: Yes, Sir. I turned her in. 

INSP: End of story? 

BEN: Yes, Sir. 

INSP: You see, Fraser, that's where I have the trouble. According to your colleagues, your 

problems on the job began, pretty much to the day, when you brought in Victoria Metcalf. 

I don't believe this story is over by a long shot. Something happened to you out there, 

something between the moment you found her huddled against the mountain and the 

moment you arrived with her at the Outpost. 

BEN: Everything's in my report, Sir. 

INSP: The facts are in your report. The experience is not. 

BEN: There's nothing more I can tell you, Sir. 

INSP: You don't have to tell me any more. 

BEN: Thank you, Sir. 

INSP: All I need to know is whether you are still a Mountie every hour of every day of every 

week. 

Ben thinks for a while. 

BEN: I will try to be, Sir. 

Scene 10 

A week later. Ben stands before the Inspector's desk. 

BEN: You're sending me north, Sir? 

INSP: Yes. 

BEN: I don't understand, Sir. Will there be a disciplinary review first? 

INSP: No, there will not be a disciplinary review. Not this time. 

BEN: Thank you, Sir. 

INSP: A note has been placed in your file indicating that you had difficulty adjusting to the urban 

lifestyle here and were subsequently transferred to an assignment more suited to your 

strengths. 

Ben squirms to hear this. 

INSP: Do you have a problem with that, Fraser? 

BEN: It's just that it's not very accurate, Sir. 

INSP: Yes, I'm sorry about that, but I found it was very difficult to put into words. 

The Inspector winks at Ben and Ben smiles shyly. 

BEN: I see, Sir. 

INSP: If you are not able to live with this inaccuracy on your record, I'm willing to remove it and 

replace it with something closer to the truth. 

BEN: Oh, um... 

INSP: Personally, I see no need for that, but I will do as you wish in this matter. 

Ben hesitates, then answers. 

BEN: You don't have to change anything, Sir. 

INSP: Good. Very well, then. Good luck at your new posting, Fraser. 

BEN: Thank you, Sir. I will try my hardest to be worthy. 

INSP: I'm sure you will. (Gets up and walks around his desk to stand near Ben) We're going 

to miss you around here, you know. The sergeant tells me the files have never been more 

organized since you began working with them. 

Ben blushes. 

INSP: If you give that kind of attention to your duties from now on, you'll be an invaluable asset 

to the RCMP and your country. 

BEN: Thank you, Sir...for everything. 

INSP: Go home, Ben. 

* * *

**THE END**

maryspen@aol.com 


End file.
